


Those Days are Gone, And My Heart is Breaking.

by planetarygirl



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 13:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6241495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planetarygirl/pseuds/planetarygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief look at Leandra Hawke's beautiful family and her relationship with her two mage daughters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Days are Gone, And My Heart is Breaking.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [owlmoose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlmoose/gifts).



Leandra never thought of mages as a unified group, but rather an occupation like any other. She certainly never thought of them as a plight – perhaps they needed a Guild, but they certainly didn’t need jailers.  After all, people were mages in the same way they were bakers, soldiers, templars, parents or kings. The whole problem didn’t start when people became mages, but when non-mages couldn’t see past it. If she could have her way, she would sit with every Templar in Thedas and force them to watch her two small daughters play with each other. That would teach them.

For, you see, Bethany and Marian were mages, yes, _of course_ , but they were first and foremost _Bethany and Marian._ The two daughters of the loving couple couldn’t be further apart from one another.

Marian, their eldest one, was fire incarnated – even though the girl didn’t know any of elemental enchantments because _what kind of parents would they think we are? You don’t teach your daughter to literally play with fire_ , _Malcolm!_ The short haired girl was a natural leader with the disposition of a firecracker – bright, confident, playful and usually exploded when someone came closer to her. Leandra always smiled when looking at her ten year old girl playing on the road – running to catch up with the wagon; swatting bugs with her makeshift sword, clothes stained with mud and her big blue eyes staring wildly at the world around her. 

The girl could never sit tight for more than two minutes and on the rare days where they found themselves on a village, she absolutely detested staying in the house. Tempests were a source of great discord in the family – Marian wanted to play in the mud, build boats to float in the mini-river that would form at their doorstep or just soak under the small waterfalls that were the leaks in the ceiling. Leandra, on the other hand, insisted on having a _nice, quiet family_ time, for a change, and, while reading usually worked well with the twins, Marian abhorred every second of it.  She would stare at the window with a bleak expression on her childish face and mutter all the curses she had overheard Malcolm swearing when he stubbed his finger on the table. Watching her daughter slog through grey days would always remind Leandra of her own self as a child, staring wistfully at the window, hoping the snow would stop piling up at her doorstep so she could have her friends over and not just Gamlen. Winters at Kirkwall would sometimes pile up the streets with so much snow that they were forced to stay indoors for weeks at a time. When the sun reappeared and her girl returned to her normal self, Leandra would breathe relieved for the both of them.

Although Marian was no easy child (the girl could never resist pranking the Chantry sisters) she was also a godsend to her family, always putting her family duties first. There were no words to describe how much Leandra enjoyed seeing her girl unfold as she grew up: playing with the world around her, her eagerness to learn, her mischievous demeanor that would probably drive her mad one day. Not today, but one day. ( _We have to teach her to be careful, Leandra, she could never stand life in the Circle._ ).

Bethany, on the other hand, being the last one to be born, always gave her the impression that she would rather have stayed in the womb.  

Carver – older by the virtue of seconds - was too much like his older sister and the two of them got along well - until they were bickering and quickly descending on a spiral of fighting and hair pulling. Just when they were about to destroy each other’s prized possessions – her dry bug collection or his wooden sword – that was when sweet, dainty Bethany would cry and the two would share a panicked look, rushing to appease and soothe their baby sister. She would then smile the gentlest smile and all of a sudden, peace was on the rise again.

It never failed to amuse their mother how her little one kept they both around her little finger.

Bethany loved the quiet things of life: the silent indoors, with the gentleness of her mother’s sewing and her father’s reading; the serenity inside the temple, where she would listen to an old sister’s tales and songs.

She had head full of dreams and a face full of sunshine – not the midday sun that Marian usually was  (so bright it could blind you!) but those last rays that linger on your face when the sun is almost gone, the soothing caress that promised a quiet evening after a long day’s work.

The first spell she ever learned was a healing one – Marian had injured her knee on a daytrip to the market and while her strong, sturdy sister never, ever cried, Bethany could see the blood oozing from the scratch, dripping from her knee. Her urge to make it better triggered some hidden part of her brain and when Marian looked down, the flesh had knitted itself back into place. Bethany always made everything better.  ( _I don’t like the way the sister looks at our girl, Malcolm. We need to keep moving.)_

Leandra asked herself how could people see the two of them and think of they as a unite category and not as people. Malcolm assured her that it was very easy, indeed, for some people to just ignore that they were human beings, loved by the Maker all the same as everyone else.

( _Even the Grey Wardens see us as tools. Not all of them, but some of them – most of them, love.)_

She thinks of Carver, her husband’s warden friend. There needed to be more men like Carver – they had given his name to their son for that reason alone.

They keep moving, in the end; never staying long enough to warrant more than a few suspicions and a few extra coopers than the last time. Leandra doesn’t mind it so much – the further they go, they further she gets from Kirkwall and her own memories.

_(Pounding at mother’s door and begging her to open so she could at least say goodbye.  Father disowning her – You are not an Amell and she is not your mother anymore. Crying through the night in her husband’s embrace, certain in her heart that she would never see them again.)_

She doesn’t hurt anymore, not so much. Malcolm smiles and pushes the wagon forward. Marian keeps the travel lively with jokes and showing off the new bug specimens she collected. Sometimes Bethany – four year old Bethany – sings a hymn and leaves her perplexed as to where she learned it.

Leandra looks fondly at them both and forgets that they are mages in the same way she forgets her noble origins. The knowledge is there – probably in some foggy part of her inner self – but it doesn’t define their lives right now.

\-- 

[9:20]

Leandra doesn’t think that their settlement in Lothering will last long, but, to her surprise, it does. The twins are older now - almost ten years old! – and Marian herself is fourteen and a half. Her life in Kirkwall seems a distant memory now and Leandra almost smiles remembering her brother when looking at her son.

The family blends easily with the village as usual and yet this time there’s something in the air that tells them that this could be an actual home for the lot.  Malcolm is happier than ever and so is she.

Marian is much more in control of her magic – concealing has become less and less of a problem these days, their chances of being found out growing lower each dawn. Leandra never worried much about Bethany because Bethany rarely ever left her father sight. There was a bittersweet sadness in this – she always wanted her girls to be closer to her but sometimes it seemed that Marian was as feral as the mabari they found in the woods and that the only person Bethany could be closer with, other than her own father, was Andraste herself.

In the end, Carver was the one who spent most time with her – whenever he could sit tight, that is.

Everything about Lothering was special. For the first time, Bethany spent time in the Chantry without worrying so much about being found.  Every day at the crack of dawn, she could be found praying or talking to some of the sisters – one of them used to be a storyteller of some kind and that always entertained her. That was also the only time that she and her twin would spend together in harmony.

Meanwhile, as Marian furthered her control of magic, Malcolm finally started trusting her with more powerful spells. She learns that with ice and fire together, she can create rain for the crops. When she finally masters the conjuring of lightening with her bare hands, she excitedly goes to show her new trick to her small sister. Malcolm has to run after her to remind that – even though they are in the middle of the forest – someone could still see them.

Leandra sometimes would watch the two of them talking, as the short-haired girl helped him with the wares they were peddling these days. The young woman smiled easily and was going to be a great saleswoman on her own rights. She could sell junk to a rich man – and, funnily enough, one time she actually did it.

It happened while a group from Redcliff passed through the village in the way of the Arbor Wilds. Marian boasted for two weeks straight how Arl Teagan had complimented her on the quality of her wares and bought one brooch from her – and not from the blacksmith stall. She and the blacksmith boy spent two whole days without even looking each other in the eye after that.

For some reason, it was this incident that planted an idea in the Reverend Mother’s head – she had always complained to Bethany that her older sister wasn’t as faithful as her. Which was how Leandra found herself welcoming Elder Miriam into her home and listening – quite dumbfounded – how the whole fight might be _actually_ a sign of interest on Marian’s part – and wasn’t it a good time to start thinking of marriage?

Malcolm needed to sit for several minutes after she was gone – not before being reassured that they would think on it. His eyes fled from Leandra to the window – from where he could see Marian toy with her hair and chat with the baker’s daughter.

  _One day we will have to talk to her about love._

In the end, they never considered marrying their daughter off to the blacksmith son, but the talk did serve the purpose of making them acknowledge that _their beautiful girl_ was now almost eighteen – which would mean that…   _I can’t believe we’re here for five years now. How did this happen, Leandra, love?_

She had no answers and it filled her heart with content to consider all these new questions – would Marian marry one of the Lothering boys? Maker, would Bethany? And what if Carver fell in love with a girl in another village?

The future was not written and it finally seemed possible. As Malcolm held her that night, Leandra allowed herself to be fully content for the longest time. Those questions could wait, she decided, because _they had time_. When she got up the next day, the sun was shining, Bethany had already gone to the Chantry and Marian had started talking with the smithy boy again. Leandra got up without rush and as she darned some socks for the family, she sang an old lullaby to herself.

\--- 

[9: 27]

It had not been a fruitful season and the whole village suffered for it – some more than others. The winter was harsh and the food, scarce. Malcolm leaved them one day to hunt and returned the next with a sniffling nose and a bit of cold.  Leandra scolded him for sleeping in the open woods when there was already a thin layer of snow covering the yellow leaves.

Bethany tried to heal him several times but their empty bellies made it a difficult attempt. Marian went to the woods the next day and got back with some meat that didn’t seem quite right – as if it were not freshly hunted. They never questioned where she got it and they tried to make it last for the longest time.

Malcolm passed after three weeks battling whatever had possessed him that night in the woods.

Leandra grieved openly. Her soul was split in two and she despaired to think of what would become of her family. Malcolm was always the one who knew how to survive. Malcolm always provided for her and her kids. Malcolm was the one who made everything work. Malcolm…

As the pyre burned higher and she lost herself in the fumes, Leandra felt a strong hand on her left shoulder. The firm grip supported her weight and held her close all through the night.

When the smoke is almost gone, she looked up to see her eldest daughter, Marian, with a stone face and her arms tightly wounded around her own body. Leandra watched her recomposing herself and struggle to recognize the face of the woman who was now her daughter. Through her red eyes, she watched Marian putting out the rest of the flame and hugging her little sister. Carver refused to look at anything other than the ashes in front of them.  

"We will get by, mother."

Marian’s voice is like a distant reminder of Malcolm’s own and Leandra assented with a nod.

\---

[9:30]

Carver had left for Ostagar.

Her little boy was all grown up and the house never felt so empty. Her two men were gone – Malcolm three years ago and now Carver was going to fight in the King’s army. Against a possible blight – if rumors were to be believed.

Marian – as always – was the one holding everything together. Ever since Malcolm’s passing, she had taken over the business. Her smile and youthful nature were guaranteed success in sales. Bethany maintained a good relationship with the Chantry and the two sisters were rarely apart now.  

Leandra watched the two of them with an anxious smile. Her most precious daughters – she feared losing them like she lost the rest of her family. Her thoughts drifted back to the early days of their family. How she missed the road sometimes.

Marian had grown distrustful of other people too – probably a natural effect from having to become the leader of the family so soon, something that Leandra tried to avoid but was too heartbroken to succeed. The young woman even learned how to manipulate a short sword - Carver had not been keen to teach at first, but eventually agreed that the two would have to protect their family somehow and she would not always be in a position to display her magical abilities.  These days she used it to chase impertinent boys from her younger sister – who seemed to grow more and more devoted to the Maker with each passing day.

One morning,  Leandra woke up with a chill and a worried expression. Marian was already up at the door, as if expecting something. Even the air seemed  heavy with anticipation – Leandra watched the village through her window and it looked as if it were holding a collective breathe.  The tension seemed to be spreading to the villagers themselves and their personal relations. Many men had gone missing these past months and everyone’s spirits were frayed. Leandra had started to keep a few things at hand – just in case something happens. When Carver gets back, she decided that morning, they will talk about moving.

A pang hit her chest when she thought of it – _no, I can never leave this house behind_. Her happiest moments with Malcolm are there – the few normal moments her family ever had were there. They will stand tall in the storm.  They had to. The days pass in slow agony.

"Carver is coming home, mother," Marian said, eyes scanning the horizon, all pretense of working abandoned a few days ago, when the news of Ostagar reached the village.

Bethany joined her sister’s side and sang a hymn – like she used to.

Her heart ache – she misses her husband more than never. Tears prick her eyes and she feels – once again – a firm hand on her shoulder. Arms surround her with love and the old woman is embraced by her two daughters.  Leandra Hawke lets herself to hope – that better days will come, that her baby boy would come home and in that moment, she knows that they could face the horde, if it came to it.

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language and I apologize for any mistakes I've commited. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
